


said i was reaching for the moon but oh, you came through

by questionsthemselves



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Love Confessions, Idiots in Love, M/M, Protective Kraglin, Yondu being a grumpy oblivious blueberry, was supposed to be smut but turned into snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-23 03:44:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11981427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionsthemselves/pseuds/questionsthemselves
Summary: “The flark ya need to go alone, yer the stars-damned cap’n.”Kraglin shifts jerkily from one foot to the other, worrying a single thread obsessively off his sleeve. He’s finally free to release the stewing choke of worry he’d been tamping down since muster earlier - where Yondu had outlined a plan for pulling on job, one that involved him going solo to meet with the heads of one of the worst gangs to be spit up from the gut of Knowhere.They’re shuttled down to the port alone, and Kraglin only has a few minutes to convince his captain of what a terrible, awful idea this is.Or the time Kraglin was in love and accidentally let it slip.





	said i was reaching for the moon but oh, you came through

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Gaxxy91 - Happy (very) Belated Birthday!!! xx
> 
> Sort of set in the same universe as 'oh the bright and hollow sky' but can be read completely as a stand alone.

“The flark ya need to go alone, yer the stars-damned _cap’n._ ”

Kraglin shifts jerkily from one foot to the other, worrying a single thread obsessively off his sleeve. He’s finally free to release the stewing choke of worry he’d been tamping down since muster earlier - where Yondu had outlined a plan for pulling on job, one that involved him going solo to meet with the heads of one of the worst gangs to be spit up from the gut of Knowhere. 

They’re shuttled down to the port alone, and Kraglin only has a few minutes to convince his captain of what a terrible, awful idea this is. He’d grown up slinking through dripping, rotted caverns here, and he’s intimately familiar with the kind of yellow belly tactics gangers use to take down any spacer that gets just a little too cocky.

“You think I’m soft, boy?” Yondu spits back at him, squared off. “Don’t think just because we’re sharing a little nookie-nookie you have any say in this.”

“Right, because me bein’ yer first mate don’t mean nothing,” Kraglin says, resisting the urge to reach out and try and shake some sense into Yondu – not that he thinks it would work all that well, Yondu seems to have some kind of personal grudge against the concept of ‘common sense.’ 

Yondu ignores him, letting his the glow from his implant throb threateningly. 

“I’m the one that’s making calls here, I’m the baddest thing on this fuckin’ port and if they have any sense they know it,” he say mulishly.

“Right, because the krutarkin’ Yezuza gang is known fer being reasonable,” Kraglin rakes an agitated hand through his scraggly mohawk, “at least let me come with ya.”

“You keep yer beaky nose outta this one, ya hear? Fuck off somewhere else, that’s an order, boy.” 

It’s been awhile since Yondu’s gotten in a mood like this and the frustration's setting Kraglin on edge, making him feel hot and tight like a seized engine. Yondu’s face has gotten that puckered-lip, intractable set to it, but he can’t help but try one last time.

“Don’t matter what they’re willing to give, no job’s worth enough ta send ya into a situation like this alone, that many surrounding ya could take anyone out, boss.”

“And?” Yondu bites out. “I’ve cheated the fates this far, I c’n take care of myself an’ have done since before ya ever joined up. Hell, dunno why’s it sticking in yer craw like this now.” 

“Because I love ya you fuckin’ asshole!”

Yondu freezes mouth open as he registers that, eyebrows hiking towards the ceiling. Kraglin chokes a little on nothing, face going all blotchy and mottled as he realizes what he’s gone and said. 

They may have had an unspoken thing for years now but Kraglin’s seen how Yondu gets whenever the mood turns a little too sentimental, and it isn’t pretty. Last time Kraglin sleepily mumbled his growing fondness as they tangled together in a fucked-out spoon, he’d been promptly shoved off the bed and ushered out the door by arrow-point. 

It might have been a few years since then but he’s sure nothing’s changed – Kraglin still fucked this up, he knows it, and before he can mess it up even more he’s stumbling out some excuse and nearly tripping over his feet to get out the door.

 

There’s a beautiful skyscape out tonight, on the skull’s edge of Knowhere. Kraglin shouldn’t be here looking at it, he should be by his captain’s side, but he’s pissed Yondu off enough already – the least he can do is obey orders. Tullk and the rest of the crew better make damn sure the captain comes back in one piece though, or someone’s gonna end up with a knife in their guts.

Kraglin can’t shake the ache though, throbbing through him like a rotted tooth. He’s found a rusted metal roof on some abandoned building, where he can gaze dully up at a coral-blushed moon as he swigs downs some lime paint thinner of an excuse for alcohol and lets the horizon blur. When he’d left this decaying space port behind to follow his newly-minted Ravager captain to the skies, he’d hoarded away a bitter promise never to come back. Yet, here he is. 

“Plan on sharin’ any of that, or ya’d rather drown yer sorry ass alone?” 

Kraglin startles blurrily, feels the heat radiating off the sturdy body of his captain as he plunks himself down beside him. He waits dully for a punch, an insult, anything, but when it doesn’t come he silently proffers the liquor, watches out of the corner of his eye as Yondu takes a hearty swig before handing it back. 

He’s a little surprised Yondu followed him out here. This is far from the first argument they’ve gotten into, but there’s normally a sort of well-worn pattern that always follows these things. 

Kraglin will make himself scarce, Yondu will stomp around, his arrow trailing threateningly behind him while the crew finds other places they’re desperately needed. Eventually, depending on who cracks first, either some bobbly doodad will show up on Yondu’s dash or Kraglin will find some delicately balanced new knife slipped into his locker and Kraglin will end up in Yondu’s bed that night like nothing’s happened.

To be fair, this is first time a fight’s ended quite like this one did. 

Kraglin downs the rest of the liquor, and dangles the empty bottle over the side listlessly. 

“See ya didn’t get killed,” he says, staring straight ahead like he’s trying to burn a hole in the horizon.

“Yeah…” Yondu drawls out. “They weren’t too happy I showed up with a posse, but I told ‘em if they want the best fer this job they gotta play by my rules.” 

Kraglin swallows and looks down between his knees. 

“Good thing too,” Yondu continues, idly tapping a grimy nail against his knee. “Turns out they had a little more muscle then they’d promised, like they was expecting things ta go a different way.” 

Kraglin can’t stop the shudder of relief that goes through him as he slumps a little, letting his shoulder bump into Yondu’s.

“Good thing yer too smart to let ‘em get the drop on you alone then, sir,” he says.

Yondu archly ignores the dig and nudges him back. 

“So now that’s all wrapped up, ya gonna head with me back to the ship to celebrate?” Yondu creaks his way to his feet, starting off towards the ladder without looking back as Kraglin scrambles after him.

 

The shuttle ride back is made in almost complete silence. The rest of the crew must be out carousing because the ship is dark, almost empty besides the duty crew. Yondu strides towards his quarters without looking back and Kraglin has to hurry to keep up. 

Kraglin’s off-balance, wobbly like a compass trying to find north, and not sure what Yondu’s planning. He just hopes that his outburst hasn’t ruined everything. Yondu may never want him back the same way but just having him there, getting to stand by his side and hold him at night is enough. It has to be enough, because the thought of losing the warm, easy push and pull, the quiet moments drowsing between shifts, the unspoken trust every time Yondu faces a hostile world with Kraglin standing behind, makes his stomach hurt like someone’s dug their nails into a bloody handful of guts and twisted.

Waving a hand to open the biolock, Yondu stomps through the door and doesn’t stop until Kraglin’s through and it’s swished closed behind them. Before Kraglin can even think to open his mouth though, Yondu’s got two handfuls of his collar and is shoving him back against the wall, pushing up to kiss him hard, teeth clacking painfully. 

It takes Kraglin a second to process the sudden turn of events, but then six-odd years of instinct has him fitting their mouths together as he kisses back, sloppily, softly, letting all that frenetic energy buffet against him.

After a minute all the steam and bluster seems to leak out of Yondu. His hands lose their death grip on Kraglin’s collar and he breaks the kiss, pulling back to stare down at the floor. There’s nothing audible except the sounds of their breathing, and watching his captain in bemusement Kraglin’s not sure what to think.  Yondu cracks his neck, looks at up at him for a minute, jaw working like he’s trying to say something, but all that comes out is a low disgruntled click and then he’s pushing away, scrubbing roughly at his neck. 

There’s still this crackling electric in the air around him, like there’s a storm in his head fighting to get out, and suddenly Kraglin gets it. Yondu’s not angry with him, at least not anymore, doesn’t seem to be even close to warning him off letting any more sentiment slip. Something’s changed, even if Yondu’ll never be able to acknowledge it more than he’s doing right now, but Kraglin feels something rock steady and fierce settle deep in his chest. If Yondu’ll let him, he’s gonna do his best to show him everything he’ll never let him say. 

Stepping away from the wall, he leans in to gently unfasten Yondu’s jacket, slipping it off his shoulders and following it with his grimy undershirt as he stands there stiffly, still not looking Kraglin in the eye. His hands keep convulsively making fists, hands going open and shut and Kraglin reaches to one tangle their fingers gently together, just for a minute, before letting go with a squeeze. 

Pausing only to shuck his jacket, he tugs them both to sit on the bed. When Yondu just sits there, Kraglin pushes him gently onto his side, scootching himself behind to spoon them together. 

Yondu’s stiff as a doll, staring straight ahead like the wall in front of him is going to attack him if he looks away for a second and Kraglin’s heart twists a little. He bites his lip though, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t want to spook him and have him pull away. Draping his arm around Yondu’s waist, he pulls them snug together and nuzzles fondly at the dully glowing implant. 

He can feel his arm tingling as it goes slowly numb beneath Yondu’s bulk, and the edge of the implant means there’s never a really comfortable place to tuck his head. There’s still the job needling at the back of his mind, all the logistics crowding his head, and deep down there’s still a small, greedy part of him that wants to snarl and snap until the rest of the world fucks off and leaves them alone – because Yondu may be a prickly, mercurial asshole, but he’s _Kraglin’s_ asshole, and that still takes the breath from him a little. But here, wrapped around him, breathing in the scent of sour sweat and cheap liquor wrapped in a faint metallic tang all Yondu’s own, Kraglin relaxes, lets the feel of their bodies tangled wash it all away. 

**Author's Note:**

> comments feed the soul <3


End file.
